


Not Beyond Repair

by incredibly_cold



Series: The Hamfam goes to college [15]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Brain Damage, Casual Ableism, M/M, Seizures, it actually is where john starts getting better though, john getting hurt, john getting into fights, not very shippy, possibly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 15:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7849738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incredibly_cold/pseuds/incredibly_cold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was another mistake in the long string of mistakes that was John's life. This time, it might have permanent consequences that he couldn't just ignore. The first step to getting better is admitting that you have a problem. Maybe now, John was ready to do that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Beyond Repair

**Author's Note:**

> John finally starts getting better after all the shit he's been through, and he might actually be able to lead a normal, happy life.

John wasn't sure why he did it. Having his left arm pretty much immobilized for over a month had effectively forced him to stop getting into fights. He was going to a therapist now, and trying to find healthier ways to cope, like talking and all that shit. He was on medication that was supposed to make him less depressed, but really didn't do much for his mood yet. He did at least have the energy to get out of bed though, which was nice.

So really he didn't understand why he was in this position, even as he squared up against this man who probably weighed twice what he did, all of it muscle. It was like fighting Hercules, except this guy was definitely not Hercules. He was drunk, and he had a mean streak a mile wide. John had fought him a couple of times, because he would pretty much always get into an actual fistfight instead of just yelling. A little over a year ago he'd given John a concussion because he slammed his head into the ground. That was back when Alex had first moved in. Now, he had nearly doubled in size. Getting into competitive weight lifting would do that to a person, especially when they had a growth spurt to boot.

Usually John didn't try to fight back all that hard. Enough to seem like he was't just standing there, but not enough to really stop himself from getting hurt. This time, he didn't have to hold back. He already wasn't at his best because of his left shoulder, and as soon as the first punch hit his ribs and he heard the tiny cracking sound of a fracture, he knew this had been a bad idea. He fought back as hard as he could, successfully blocking several hits, and even landing a few himself.

Then he felt the hand in his hair.

Damn it, he knew this guy cheated. Why had he chosen him? This time he was still standing, and the distance between his head and the ground was a lot further than last time. He tried to brace himself, and he grabbed the hand that was all tangled up in his hair, but the guy bodily lifted him and threw him to the ground. He landed hard on his shoulder, and it hurt like hell, but at least his head hadn't gotten the brunt of the impact. But then the other man was lifting him again, and he clawed at his hand to try to make him let go, but it didn't work. The side of his head slammed into the asphalt with way more force than it had last time this asshole had decided to play dirty. John already felt dazed, and he hadn't even tried to stand up yet. But then, belatedly, he noticed himself being lifted again, and he tried again to make the guy let go, but he couldn't coordinate his movements. He was pretty sure the guy's friends were yelling at him to stop, like last time, but as soon as his head hit the ground again, everything went black.

* * *

There was someone standing over him and shouting, and John got the impression that they thought he was dead. A stupid assumption, if they hadn't checked his pulse. He tried to sit up, only to feel a stabbing pain in his head that made him groan and flop back down. There was more shouting, and something about calling an ambulance. God, he couldn't afford another ambulance.

"No." He groaned, as loudly as he could. "Hercules. Phone."

He was surprised he had managed something so coherent, really, with the way his head was feeling. Of course, there was no way he could tell them his password, but Hercules was popular, lots of people had his phone number. And if no one did, then they should at least get the part where he didn't want an ambulance.

Then someone was helping him to his feet, which wasn't very effective at all since he couldn't stand on his own. He just kept his eyes shut and tried to move his feet while someone put him in a car, and then they were driving and he fell asleep again.

There were several more times that he partially woke up like that, but the next time that he could really focus and open his eyes, he was in a hospital bed. Perfect, back in the hospital. Everyone would be pissed at him. He was pissed at himself.

The amount of difficulty he was having with thinking of words was a little concerning to him. He couldn't really make any single connected thought in his head, just jumbled bits and pieces of like three different thoughts at once. He didn't even want to try talking. He looked around and saw that no one else was in the room. There also weren't any magazines, and the TV remote was across the room, where he wasn't going to attempt to reach it. Trying to limit stimuli, that meant he had a concussion. He was aware of that but he couldn't quite form the idea in his mind with words. It was weird.

It hadn't been that long when Hercules, Lafayette, and Alex arrived. Or he didn't think it had been that long. He wasn't really sure, he might have fallen asleep at some point. They were jabbering, whether to him or to each other he couldn't really tell.

John squinched his eyes shut and flopped his arm at them. It was supposed to be a calming wave of his hand, but it didn't really work out. "Sound," he told them. He'd meant to say that they were being too loud, but that worked too.

* * *

He did have a concussion, and this one was much worse than the last one. They didn't tell him a lot about it, since he was having trouble understanding anything that they said but he did know that they were keeping him in the hospital. He didn't really mind it that much, he was too tired to care. He spent most of his time sleeping while he was there, and even for a while after he got back home.

Later, he found that he didn't remember much from that whole week, and he wasn't really sure how much of that was because he was asleep and how much was memory loss. Once he was functioning a little bit more normally, he went back for a check up, and for them to explain the situation better.

What they told him was that he might never be his old self again. A brain injury as bad as this one could have permanent side effects. Things like speech, word comprehension, hand eye coordination, they might never come back as good as they once were. He should still be able to fully function in the real word, it would just be different. But, they reminded him, nothing was certain in a head injury like this. It was entirely possible that he would go back to being completely normal. They didn't say it directly, but John took that to mean that he could just as easily never recover at all, and have trouble doing everything for the rest of his life.

It was bad news. Undeniably bad. Absurdly, the first thought he had was that he was glad it wasn't Alex. Alex needed his brain. He couldn't handle something like this, where he couldn't fully form his thoughts and ideas, let alone voice them. It was terrible no matter what, but at least John didn't live his whole life in words. Then he was angry.

Why in the hell had he gotten into that fight? It was one more stupid decision in an endless string of stupid decisions that made up his life. He'd known for a long time that at some point he was going to have to face consequences. Well, technically he'd faced consequences multiple times, and now was just one of them. It was difficult though, mostly because he couldn't find a way to express what he was feeling, even to himself. It was a different kind of helplessness than the sleep paralysis that he was used to.

One thing that he noticed changing in himself was his temper. He used to be pretty level headed. Sure, he picked fights, but almost never because he was actually angry, it was just something that he did. It was rare that anything genuinely enraged him. Now everything seemed to set him off. Not being able to think of the words to convey a message, and not being able to say the words that he did think of was frustrating by itself, but then there were the pitiful looks everyone gave him every time it happened. Really most of it was issues with not being able to do what he was used to. When he was at Hercules and Marie's apartment he knocked over a glass because he couldn't get his hand to go where it was supposed to. It shattered when it hit the ground, and it had taken all his effort not to just start screaming and punching the glass shards. It was absolutely infuriating.

John figured that at least it wouldn't get any worse. Assuming he didn't hit his head again, he would either gradually get better, or nothing would change. He wanted to get better, but he was willing to settle for not getting worse. And the thing was, John didn't actually know if he got worse after he decided that, or if that was just when he found out that he had another problem.

James had come over to help go over some of the things John had missed while he was gone, which seemed a little pointless. Between getting shot and this concussion, he seriously doubted that he would pass his classes this semester. The concepts were all beyond him, and he couldn't focus for the life of him, so there was no point in studying. At some point he must have spaced out, because suddenly he had no idea what was going on or even what subject they were talking about now. He also noticed that James wasn't talking anymore, and when he looked back the other man was staring at him.

"What?" He asked, after several seconds of uncomfortable silence had passed between them.

James didn't answer for a while. "Your lip."

His lip? John touched his hand to it, and when he looked he found that there was blood on his fingers. Great, a split lip. That was just what he needed. He hadn't even realized that they were chapped or anything, but he supposed it must have been, if his chewing on it while he was bored was enough to make it bleed. "Okay, I'm tired, and now apparently I'm bleeding all over the place. Can we just be done for the day?" He sighed.

"John, has this been happening a lot? With your lip, I mean, and being tired, and spacing out."

John didn't really see the point to this. "Not the lip, but yeah. My head, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember, I was just wondering how you were doing. I'll come back later, but you should eat something and take a nap. It'll make you feel better, I promise," James answered quickly. Then packed up his stuff and left through their adjacent bathroom.

It was kind of a weird way to end things, and John wasn't really sure that James was qualified to make promises like that. Then again, it was hard to say what kind of experience he might have with traumatic brain injuries since he so rarely divulged anything about himself. Maybe he knew more than anyone realized. Either way, he usually knew what he was talking about, so even if he wasn't giving the instructions based on personal experience, it was likely good advice.

* * *

As it turned out, _later_ was much sooner than John would have thought. Within the same day, actually. He came in with Alex when he was returning from his classes, and immediately sat himself down at the desk. The whole thing felt a little weird right off the bat, because Alex and James didn't get along. More accurately, Thomas pissed Alex off to no end, and as his boyfriend/roommate, James was automatically his enemy.

"So he wants to talk to us," Alex explained, when he'd finished putting his stuff down. "It isn't really something you're going to like, but I think that it does have some merit, coming from him. He's been texting Herc, Laf, and I about it all day, just to make sure he isn't making something out of nothing, and I do think there might be something."

Whatever this was, John already felt nervous.

"Right. When we were studying, you kind of blanked out on me and started chewing on your lip for a while. Like a few minutes. Which is totally fine by the way, I'm just concerned because you didn't notice or snap out of it when I said your name, or touched you, or even when you'd chewed your lip so much it bled." James explained. "So I wanted to ask your friends if they've noticed similar things. Spacing off and not snapping out of it when they do something that would normally get your attention, and doing the same thing but with some kind of repetitive motion like chewing your lip, or picking at something."

It was too many words, too much explanation. John was still lost at the point where he'd supposedly chewed his own lip until it bled. Now he knew he chewed it sometimes, but never until it bled. He was pretty sure he would have noticed something like that. He shook his head in frustration and indicated shortening it with his hands. "Less words."

"Okay, sorry. Long story short, I have epilepsy and I know a lot about different kinds of seizures, and I'm pretty sure that that's what's happening. Severe head injuries cause seizures a lot, so I think it's a safe bet," he told him. With all the unnecessary bullshit cut out, that was actually pretty easy to understand.

Seizures though? John thought that he would know if he had seizures. Those were more full body things, and he would have been on the floor when they were over, and someone definitely would have noticed something. He tried to explain that as best he could, but all that he could come up with was, "But I'm not squirmy."

Luckily, James wasn't offended by that. "No, definitely not, but not all seizures are convulsive. I think you're having complex partial seizures, and maybe some absence seizures too. With absence ones you don't do anything at all, it's just like you freeze for a little bit and usually don't even notice that time has passed. The other ones are mostly the same, but you tend to do some uncontrollable, repetitive action, like chewing your lip."

John felt lost. He couldn't be having seizures, he already had probably permanent trouble with his left arm, and brain damage. That was enough. He didn't need any more injury-induced health problems. He looked to Alex for support, but his boyfriend was clearly agreeing with James.

"I think we need to take you to the doctor."

* * *

Of course, James had to be right. John was having seizures, and he had been ever since the fight. He'd only recently been able to start taking his antidepressants again, and now his medication was being called into issue, because mixing medicines could be dangerous, and they weren't really sure how well seizure medication would mix with antidepressants. It wouldn't kill him or anything, but there was a strong possibility that they would make each other less effective. Pretty early on, John made the decision that unless they started getting worse, he wasn't going to do anything about them. He accepted the first thirty day supply in case of emergencies, but he decided that however inconvenient, they weren't worth stopping the other medicine.

For the most part, since he didn't ever realize that they'd happened unless someone pointed it out, or if there was an obvious gap in time that he didn't remember, they didn't bother him. There were a few annoying things, like he had to stop driving himself places, but it wasn't too bad. Most people didn't even realize that he was having seizures unless he told them.

Then there were times where he got hurt.

Sometimes when he had a seizure, he would start walking, and since he was completely unconscious of where he was going, that was dangerous. He almost got hit by a car when he was on a walk with Marie, but some random woman who was luckily paying more attention than his friend, knocked him out of the way. Apparently it was a very movie-worthy scene, although he had no memory of it. He was just glad he hadn't hit his head again when he went down. Then there was the time when he was lighting candles on Alex's birthday cake. He had a lit match in his hand when he just froze, and the flame burnt right down to his fingers. That time it wasn't even the burns that upset him, it was the fact that he couldn't do a simple fucking task like lighting a candle.

The whole thing gave him a new appreciation for how much he wasn't thankful for having a properly functioning body before. He'd never really thought to be glad about not having seizures before. It just seemed like a given. Now, he genuinely appreciated it every time he could complete a task without some kind of delay. He also knew that the situation wasn't feasibly sustainable. If the seizures didn't stop over time as his brain healed, then he would have to bite the bullet and get things sorted with medication, because finding a job where it wouldn't matter would be hard. He'd already lost his old job, but that was to be expected. Between getting shot and being housebound for so long with the concussion, he hadn't been able to work. If it wasn't for Marie, they wouldn't have even had a place to live for the rest of the semester.

School was another problem. John couldn't pass his classes for his last semester of senior year, not with everything that had happened. He was so far behind that even if his brain was working right, there was no way he could have gotten caught up. It was too late. So he dropped out, which meant that this one last semester that his dad had already paid for didn't matter, and they couldn't stay in the dorm anymore. Marie offered to let them move into the second room in the two-bedroom apartment that he shared with Hercules, and naturally they agreed.

Through an interesting series of events, John got hired at the aquarium in Niagara Falls which was only about a 30 minute drive. Hercules worked there too, (the city, not the aquarium) so he had a reliable ride that didn't include public transportation. He enjoyed working there, and even without a degree, he had enough biology and zoology to do do some work with the animals. Not like surgery or anything, but he really loved all the fish, and he was glad he wasn't doing concessions or something like that, where he wouldn't be around them.

He was happy when he started noticing his speech and coordination starting to get better. Not back to how they used to be, but it was closer. Things were starting to look up. He had a steady job that paid pretty well, and a manager who adored him. She'd offered him a job on the spot when he'd accidentally commandeered the tour explaining to Alex about the names of all the fish and everything he knew about them (which was a lot.) It was something he could actually do because it was stuff he'd memorized a long time ago, and the rest of the group had kind of started listening to him instead of the real tour guide. He'd finally come out as openly gay instead of just dating another man and hoping people would assume that they were just friends. Everything felt like it was coming together.

Maybe he would never be completely back to normal, and maybe that was okay. He was adapting to what he had to work with, and that was the most important thing. His manager even told him that if he ever felt like he was ready to go back to school, then she would work with him to keep him on, and maybe someday he could do more with the medical work with all the animals. It was a good life, even if it had taken a while to get there. Better than he'd ever expected. If someone would have told him a year ago that he would be this satisfied with life, he wouldn't have believed them. Now though, he knew that it was possible for him to be happy. 

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments, and as always feel free to talk to me at incredibly-cold.tumblr.com


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